


Lifestyles of the Weird and Sexy

by robotsnchicks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Dean, Bottoming from the Top, M/M, Misunderstandings, Or Is he?, Plot Twists, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Roommates, Secrets, Some endverse Cas vibes, Top Castiel, Witch Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotsnchicks/pseuds/robotsnchicks
Summary: Dean's roommate Castiel is a pretty weird dude. He's also hot as hell and Dean might have a bit of a crush on him.The problem is Cas might be a witch. And finding out the truth isn't as easy as Dean thought it would be.





	Lifestyles of the Weird and Sexy

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: There's a plot twist/revelation about a character that I've left untagged to keep from spoiling the ending. Please see the end notes if you have concerns or don't mind being spoiled.
> 
> This was written for [rw_eaden's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/pseuds/rw_eaden) ficoween celebration! The prompt is at the end of the fic.  
> Special thanks to [noxlee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlee/pseuds/noxlee) who did a wonderful last minute beta for me. All mistakes are my own.

Castiel is a weird dude. Dean realizes this as soon as Cas moves into the room upstairs. The guy is a bizarre cross between a hippie and a mad scientist. He wanders around barefoot, rambling about bees and shared perception, but he also reads chemistry textbooks for fun. He either smells like patchouli or an electrical fire; it depends on the day. Dean thinks he works from home, but he has no idea what he does. Whatever it is, he doubts it’s your typical data entry gig. Thumps and crashes can be heard from his room at all hours of the night and on one particularly memorable day there’s an explosion. 

Dean gets used to it though. Cas is full of unusual habits but he always pays the rent on time and it’s nice having someone else in the house that's on a swing schedule. Sure, it sucks when random sounds or smells drift down, but at this point it’s just part of sharing a house. Charlie spends her weekends in fake armor, Garth talks to a sock puppet named Mr. Fizzles, and Castiel does weird science behind his closed door. Between the four of them the rent is cheap and all in all, Dean likes their ragtag household. And to be perfectly honest, watching Cas do yoga shirtless has definitely improved certain parts of Dean’s life. 

But when Dean’s woken up by a low, guttural croak followed by the smell of turpentine and thick purple smoke pouring through his vents, he has a moment of clarity. His roommate isn’t just some Bill Nye wannabe who may or may not sell weed to the college kids.

Cas is a witch.

Charlie and Garth take the news much better than Dean expects. As in they don’t take it seriously at all.

Charlie actually shuts the door in his face when he tells her. Later he finds an article titled “Tired of Sabotaging your Love Life? Try these 5 tips!” in his inbox. He sends her “10 Ways to be a Better Listener” in return. And if he reads the article she sent before deleting it, well it’s nobody’s business but his own.

When he tracks down Garth, he’s as patient as always, but the smile slowly slides off his face as he listens. He lets Dean go over his concerns in detail, but afterward he suggests Dean’s been watching too much TV. When Dean pushes further, Garth offers to have Mr. Fizzles mediate a discussion between them.

Right.

His best friend Benny is less dismissive, but since Benny’s only met Cas once he isn't able to form an opinion. He does tell Dean to keep his eyes peeled and call him if needed. 

It's not the rousing show of support Dean hoped for, but that's fine. Dean can handle this on his own.

Cas apologizes the next night, but his explanation does little to alleviate Dean's suspicions. He tells Dean that he brought home an injured raven he found and she knocked his lighter into some varnish remover. Dean skips over the whole “brought home a raven” thing and asks about the purple color of the smoke. Cas acts like he has no idea what Dean’s talking about. 

Instead of pressing him further, Dean drops the subject and returns to his room. He pulls out a notebook and makes a list of all the signs that Cas might be a witch, starting with the purple smoke and the fact that Cas has a fucking raven. He’s pretty sure those are classic familiars. He adds a few more things he’s observed over the past few months, but it’s not a very big list. If he keeps a close eye on Cas he can hopefully confirm or deny some of the items. 

Dean spends all his free time in the common areas, but he’s unable to catch Cas doing anything suspicious. It doesn’t help that Cas barely leaves his room some days. He has visitors over twice. Both times they are couples that visit for about an hour before leaving. Dean isn’t sure what to make of that, but he adds it to his list anyway. 

Since Cas seems determined to stay sequestered in his room, Dean goes to him. Or at least he attempts to. He first tries to get a glimpse into Cas’ room by carrying in his laundry, but Cas doesn’t cooperate. He thanks Dean for bringing it upstairs, but shuts the door right in his face after taking it. Dean tries once more, this time hauling up a shipment of glass bottles that arrive for Cas (which is suspicious in and of itself). Again though, Cas thanks him but asks him to leave the package in the hall, saying he’ll bring it in later. 

Dean stomps downstairs and adds another item to the list: _very secretive_. The guy’s been in the house for five months now and hasn’t invited Dean in once. Charlie and Garth invite Dean in to chill all the time. Obviously, Cas is doing something fishy in there.

The next few days reveal little additional information. The normal sounds from Cas’ room actually die down and the only thing Dean smells is weed and Nag Champa. Dean thinks he hears chanting one night, but he can’t be certain. Still, it goes on the list. The only other thing he learns from his observation is that Cas has almost painfully sharp hipbones and needs some pants that fit.

Dean does not add that to the list.

 

On Thursday, Dean has other things to worry about. His stomach is in knots and his skin feels clammy. By the time he arrives for his evening shift at the blood bank he’s close to snapping. He’s hungry, he’s irritated, and his head hurts. When the new kid knocks over a rack of blood donations and then manages to step on one, Dean reaches his limit. He tells his boss he’s sick and takes off before he does something he regrets. 

He trudges home, fumbling for his keys once he reaches the house. A noise makes him stop and listen. This time there’s no doubt. He clearly hears chanting. He presses against the door and realizes there are multiple voices involved. A chill runs down his spine and he wonders if he should call Benny or someone. 

This could be his chance though. If he catches Cas in the act he'll have proof once and for all. A part of him screams that walking directly into a possible coven is a bad idea, but despite everything, Dean trusts Cas on a certain level. The guy volunteers at the animal shelter and goes out of his way to avoid stepping on ants. Dean has trouble imagining him as the human sacrificing type even if he is a witch. He takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Instead of a coven, he finds Cas, Charlie and some chick he doesn't know. The two women are sitting across from each other in an uncomfortable looking position while Cas sits in front of them. It’s a pretty big let down after all the things Dean was imagining. 

He clears his throat. “Hey guys.” 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas gazes up at him. “You're home early.”

“Yeah dude, what’s up? Dorothy and I were trying to get our kundalini groove on.”

Before he can respond, Dorothy untangles herself and stands up. “No, it’s fine, I should be getting home anyway.” She walks over and extends her hand to Dean. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t impose.”

“No, not at all.” Charlie glares at him from over Dorothy’s shoulder and he takes the hint. “Don’t leave on my behalf. I’m about to crash in my room anyway.” 

Dean shoots Charlie what he hopes is a surreptitious wink and heads to his room to change out of his work clothes and grab a snack. He realizes half the stuff in his mini fridge is expired and makes a mental note to go shopping tomorrow. No wonder he feels like crap.

By the time he emerges from his room, Dorothy is gone and Charlie is pouting on the couch. He collapses next to her and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. Cas hasn’t left his position on the floor, but an unlit joint now dangles from his lips. He rolls it from one corner of his mouth to the other and Dean is mesmerized.

“Way to clam jam me, Dean.” Charlie jabs an elbow in his side.

“Excuse me?” Dean snaps his attention over to Charlie.

Charlie makes a face. “I’m trying out alternative versions of cock blocking. Haven’t found one I liked yet.”

Cas huffs out a laugh and Dean’s attention snags on him once again. When Cas laughs his entire face transforms. His eyes crinkle up and his nose scrunches up in a way that makes Dean want nothing more than to make it happen again. Sometimes it feels like Cas is a black hole pulling all of Dean’s awareness towards him. He’s never experienced that with anyone else. Maybe it really is witchcraft.

“Hello? Earth to Dean.” Charlie pulls a dirty sock out from between the couch cushions and tosses it at him. 

He bats it away with a shudder and forces himself to ignore the wonders of Cas’ face. “Sorry, I’m a little out of it.”

“You do look a little pale, Dean. Are you alright?” Cas unfolds himself and walks over to peer at Dean’s face. 

“I’m fine.” He ducks out of the way when Cas moves a hand as if to check his temperature. “Really. Just ate something bad. What’s up with the late yoga session anyway?” 

“Dorothy’s schedule doesn’t work for most classes but luckily, Cas offers private sessions.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“That’s cool.” Dean turns to Cas. “So uh, is that what you do? You’re a yoga teacher?” 

Cas squints at Dean. “Among other things. It was on my rental application.”

“Oh. Charlie’s the one who handles that stuff.” Maybe Cas really is just a hippie dude that likes to explode things. Maybe Dean really did imagine the smoke color.

“You seem surprised.”

“Uh.” Dean blusters for a minute until Charlie cuts in.

“He thought you were a witch.” 

“Charlie!” Dean hisses and socks her in the thigh.

Cas’ eyebrows raise and a grin takes over his face. “Really? That’s quite flattering.”

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. You’re a strange dude. Can’t blame me for having some suspicions.” Dean stands up and rolls his shoulders. “I’m gonna stop by the butcher shop and see Benny after I grab a few hours of sleep. Do either of you want anything?”

“No thank you, I’m taking a break from red meat right now.” 

Dean shakes his head at her sadly. “How are we even friends? What about you Cas?”

“Just some lamb’s blood.” Cas winks at him.

“Very funny. Alright I’m gonna go pass out for a while. ”

Dean falls asleep the moment he hits the bed. He doesn’t remember his dreams when he wakes up, but he has the impression of a low voice chanting unfamiliar syllables in his ear. 

 

It quickly becomes apparent that Cas isn’t ready to let the issue go.

When Dean gets back from the butcher shop, the strains of “I Put A Spell on You” are blasting throughout the apartment. Dean puts away his purchases and pointedly ignores it when “Black Magic Woman” follows. The playlist continues as Cas flits in and out of the living room and Dean continues to pretend that he notices nothing unusual with the song choices. 

Dean’s rewarded for his stubbornness when he walks into the kitchen and catches Cas dancing to “Season of the Witch” while doing the dishes. Charlie and Garth are out and Cas is clearly in his own world, so Dean lets himself admire Cas openly. Cas may not have the best rhythm, but Dean could watch his hips shimmy all day. 

The water turns off and Dean quickly raises his eyes. The amused look on Cas’s face tells him he wasn’t quick enough though.

Dean considers deflecting but instead offers an embarrassed shrug. There's no point in pretending innocence now. He just hopes that Cas is flattered rather than offended. 

Before Dean can find out, Garth bursts through the front door with his arms full of groceries. 

Dean and Cas help him haul his bags to the kitchen while Garth updates them about his shift at the animal shelter. Cas perks up when he hears that a new litter of kittens is ready to be adopted, and the two of them are soon discussing possible names for them. When the conversation turns to who's getting neutered next week, Dean excuses himself and escapes to his room.

This time Dean remembers his dream. Thick thighs wrap around him from behind and he hears a rough voice whispering in his ear. He can't see his dream partner’s face, but when he wakes up it's with Cas’ name on his lips and a wet spot in the bed. He pulls down his boxers and looks at his cock in dismay. He hasn’t had a wet dream since he was a teenager. 

It’s probably nothing, but he adds it to the list. Just in case. 

 

Cas ups his game on Saturday. 

First it’s just the hat. A cheesy, oversized, stereotypically pointed witch hat. It perches atop his head at a ridiculous angle and is impossible to ignore. It wobbles as Cas moves around and Dean’s not sure how it stays on. 

Then it’s the new additions to the shared refrigerator. Dean goes to grab a beer only to find the shelf full of unlabeled bottles instead. He picks one up to look at it closer, but it’s quickly plucked from his hand.

“Careful with that. Who knows what it could do.” Cas opens the bottle with exaggerated care, holding it out from him as it hisses. He widens his eyes as he takes a long drink.

Dean rolls his eyes at the display and reaches around Cas to snag a pepsi instead. 

When he gets back to his room he takes out the list and looks at it again. He marks out anything that has a possible explanation and when he’s done the only item left on the list is the purple smoke. The biggest take away from the last few days is that he’s into Cas. Like, really into Cas. Maybe Charlie was right and this whole thing was just a way for Dean to undermine the relationship before it could start. He shoves the notebook in the bottom of his drawer and determines to leave it there.

The next time Dean sees Cas, he’s wearing the entire costume. It’s one of those cheap packaged deals and it’s clear that it’s meant for a woman. The material is thin and shiny and strains against his shoulders and arms. The black and purple robe only comes down to Cas’ knees, leaving his denim clad calves on display. 

It looks absolutely ridiculous and it takes every ounce of willpower that Dean possesses to keep from laughing. Cas shoots him knowing looks throughout the night and keeps trying to crack Dean’s facade. Dean almost makes it to the end of the night, but when Cas plops down on the couch and the whole right side of the costume gives way with a rip Dean can't help but laugh. Cas finally removes the awful thing and they spend the rest of the night recalling the worst costumes they’ve seen.

When he falls asleep he dreams that Cas fucks him while wearing the stupid pointy hat. He wakes up achingly hard and rutting against the bed and comes before he can even get a hand around his cock. He rolls out of the wet spot and punches his pillow in frustration. 

If he’s developed a fetish for witches because of this thing he's gonna kill Cas. 

 

The next morning, the house is suspiciously silent when Dean gets home from work. Dean was prepared for more teasing, but it looks like he actually has the house to himself for once. He stretches out on the couch with a book and tries not to feel miffed that Cas gave up on teasing him so quickly. 

It’s been fun being the center of Cas’ attention the past few days. Despite his laid back persona, a cloud of bitterness often hangs around Cas. It’s been nice to see him joking and teasing without the usual undercurrent of sarcasm. 

After a few more chapters, Dean moves to his room to get some sleep. It's honestly pretty boring with nobody around, and he hopes that someone, preferably Cas, comes home soon. 

When Dean gets up a few hours later, the house is still empty. With nothing else to do, he heads to the kitchen to poke around. Sunday nights they normally order in and watch movies, but Dean isn’t sure when the rest of the house will be back. He considers ordering a pizza but a quick look around tells him they have enough to make some pretty decent nachos and that sounds better. 

He lays out the ingredients and gets to work. He’s just started chopping the tomatoes when Cas walks in. “Hey Cas, are Charlie and Garth with you?”

“Nope. It’s just us tonight.” Cas pours himself a glass of water and downs it in one go. 

The motion exposes the long line of Cas’ neck and draws Dean's attention to a small patch of sweat that glistens in the dip of his throat. Dean watches transfixed as Cas’ adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows. A spurt of tomato juice hits Dean's wrist when he accidentally squeezes the fruit too hard. 

Cas slams the glass down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “What are you making?”

Dean clears his throat and focuses on the cutting board again. “Nachos. I’ve got enough here for a couple servings if you’re interested.” He shoves the finished tomatoes to the side with the rest of the prepared veggies and begins shredding the cheese. 

“Definitely.” Cas slides up next to him and rifles through the unused produce on the counter. “I’ve never made nachos before. What about some garlic?” He rolls the bulb between his fingers. 

“Funny.” Dean plucks it out from his hand and sets it back on the counter, then wipes his hand off on a damp towel. “How about we let me do the recipe planning. If you really wanna help, you can take care of the onions for me.” He pushes the peeled but uncut onion towards Cas. 

“My pleasure.” 

Dean’s glad he’s no longer using a knife because Cas at work is a distraction. He’s noticed how attractive Cas’ hands are many times before, but he’s never seen them at work like this. They’re large with long fingers and the muscles play under the skin in all kinds of fascinating ways. They’re the type of hands Dean can imagine doing all sorts of things to him.

Dean makes short work of the remaining ingredients despite the tempting display. He arranges everything on a baking sheet and pops it into the oven. If he was home alone he’d probably just microwave them, but he feels pressure to go the extra mile with Cas watching him.

“You still wanna watch a movie after dinner?”

“Of course. How does _The Witches of Eastwick_ sound?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Ever heard the expression ‘beating a dead horse’ Cas?”

Dinner is quick and quiet. Cas shares one of his unlabeled bottles with Dean which turns out to be homemade kombucha. It’s bubbly and a little sour, but it’s okay. When Cas pulls out the jar and describes how the kombucha is made though, Dean discreetly puts his bottle down.

They leave the dishes for later, which is certain to put them on Charlie’s shit list, but they both seem ready to move the evening along. The movie is actually a lot better than Dean expects. It's the type of movie Dean probably would have seen years ago if it had been about something other than witches.

Cas unsurprisingly spends the entire movie pointing out supposed inaccuracies in the film. Dean plays along, nodding sagely at the advice. 

Over the course of the film they both gravitate to the center of the couch. It seats three easily, but neither of them take advantage of all the space. When Cas returns from a popcorn run, he places it in his lap instead of between them. Dean inches over until they're pressed together with the excuse of keeping the popcorn within reach. 

When the credits roll, Dean has the odd feeling that somehow the evening morphed into a date. They’d shared dinner and drinks, well nachos and kombucha, and they’d watched a movie while sitting so close they brushed against each other with every move. 

Dean wants to see where this leads. “Got any other witchy movies you wanna point out the problems in?” 

Cas stands up and stretches as he thinks. His shirt hikes up, showing that once again his pants are hanging criminally low. “We could switch it up. Have you seen _What We Do in the Shadows_? They don't have it on Netflix, but I have it on my laptop. We could watch it up in my room.”

There is absolutely no reason Cas can't just bring his laptop downstairs like usual. Well, there is one reason. 

Dean stands up and nudges Cas with a grin. “Did you just ask me to netflix and chill?”

“I don’t understand that reference.” 

It throws Dean for a moment, but then the corners of Cas’ mouth twitch.

“I bet. Let me take care of a few things and I’ll meet you up there.”

As soon as Cas is out of sight, Dean jumps into action. He doesn’t want to make Cas wait, but he’s not going up there smelling like nachos either. First though, he scribbles a quick note apologizing for the mess in the kitchen and promising that he and Cas will take care of it tomorrow. Garth won’t care but he hopes that Charlie can read between the lines and that it eases her annoyance. 

With that out of the way, he showers and dresses in record time. He almost puts on some cologne but thinks better of it. He’s just going upstairs to watch a movie with his roommate. That’s all. Except for the part where said roommate has made it very clear that’s not all they’re gonna do. He’s nearly vibrating with anticipation by the time he leaves his room. 

Dean takes the stairs two at a time. He'd be wagging his tail if he had one. To say he's in the middle of a dry spell would be an understatement. He'd gotten to the point of considering paying for it. The idea that he's breaking his dry streak with Cas of all people has him on cloud nine. 

He knocks on the door and tries to school his face into something a bit more reserved. 

Cas opens the door and takes a step back. “Hello Dean.” 

“Hey Cas.” Dean winks. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Of course. Please come in, Dean.”

Dean’s mouth waters as soon as he enters the room. Cas has changed into a pair of pants so loose and thin that it’s obvious he’s wearing nothing beneath them. He beckons for Dean to follow and crosses the room. 

With effort, Dean drags his eyes away and looks around. Cas has the master suite and it's easily twice the size of Dean's room. A partial wall divides the space into two sections and keeps Cas’ bed hidden from immediate view. 

Much of the front area is bare, with the only furniture being a single uncomfortable looking chair and a low table with an incense burner on it. A large mat covers the floor and Dean assumes this is where Cas practices yoga.

Before they cross behind the room divider Cas pauses. “Sorry about the mess.” 

Dean immediately sees what he means. While the front area is almost austere, every available surface is in use in the other half of the room. 

The bookshelves that line the walls are filled to bursting with not only books but papers, bottles, and random knick knacks. Strings of drying herbs are hung above a table littered with small potted plants and jars. Even the small refrigerator in the corner has a pile of books on top of it. The only surface free of debris is a small antique table that rests on a drop cloth. Oh, and Cas’ bed. 

“Quite a place you have here, Cas.”

Cas makes a noncommittal sound as he climbs onto the bed, moving to sit with his back against the headboard. He pulls his laptop off the nightstand and pats the space next to him.

As Dean follows Cas to the bed he realizes something is missing. “Hey, what happened to the bird?”

“Oh, Meg’s doing much better. I left the window open so she can come and go as she pleases.” 

Dean's pretty sure that isn't normal but he'll ask later. He didn't come up here to talk about a bird. He settles down next to Cas on the bed, sitting close but not quite touching. Dean bounces his leg but stops when he realizes it’s shaking the entire bed. He avoids Cas’ amused gaze and takes the laptop from him in order to have something to do with his hands.

Of course once he does that, he realizes he has no idea where the movie is. Cas takes pity on him and rests his hand on Dean’s, guiding the cursor to the correct folder. Dean can feel sweat starting to gather in the palm of his hand and he’s glad Cas is only touching the back. 

Dean’s too amped up to focus on the movie. He’s hyperaware of every inch of him that’s in contact with Cas. Their arms brush with every movement and their knees knock as they shift. He doesn’t even realize that Cas has paused the movie until a few seconds have passed.

“I have a secret to tell you, Dean.” Cas gently moves Dean’s hands from the laptop before closing it and setting it on the nightstand behind him.

Dean has to swallow before replying. “Oh yeah? What’s that.”

“I didn’t invite you up here to watch a movie.”

That's all the warning Dean gets before Cas leans toward him and just barely brushes his lips against Dean's. For all his bravado the kiss is hesitant and sweet. As Cas continues to press soft teasing kisses to his mouth Dean realizes something. In all the time Cas has been here Dean has never once seen him bring someone home. Maybe Dean isn't the only one experiencing a dry spell. 

As if in agreement, Cas suddenly changes tactics. A new urgency fills his movements and he levers himself into Dean's lap and slides a hand around his neck. He nips and sucks every inch of Dean's lips before running the tip of his tongue along the swell of Dean's lower lip. 

Dean tries to move the kiss along but Cas doesn't let him rush. He continues to tease Dean, just barely dipping his tongue into his mouth before pulling back again. It’s perfectly timed to keep Dean wanting more. 

Dean groans low and needy when Cas lightly runs his tongue along the sensitive roof of Dean’s mouth, right behind his teeth. He’s always fucking loved that but never knows how to ask for it. 

“Jesus,” Dean hisses. Next time Dean will give Cas’ mouth just as much attention, but he's too impatient right now. He bucks up against Cas and tugs at the hem of his shirt. 

Cas takes the hint and quickly pulls his shirt off, tossing it behind him. When he shifts against Dean, the thin material of his pants makes his enthusiasm for the position clear. 

Seeing Cas shirtless is nothing new, but it doesn't make the moment any less exciting. Cas is tan and lean and his skin is oh so warm. Dean runs his hands up Cas’ sides before sliding them into his hair. He gently tips Cas’ head so he can nose at the sensitive skin below Cas’ ear.

Dean presses an open mouthed kiss to the pulse in Cas’ neck. “You still okay with this, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas groans. 

Dean scrapes his teeth against Cas’ throat in a feather light caress. “You ever done this before?” 

Cas laughs and squeezes Dean's sides. “Yes Dean, I've done this before.”

“Just checking. Wasn't sure if I needed to tell you what to expect.”

Cas taps his forehead against Dean's. “Stop talking. I'm ready and willing and growing more impatient by the moment.”

“Good.” Dean smiles against Cas’ neck and murmurs, “I'm really glad you're not a witch, Cas.”

Cas makes a disgruntled noise. “Why's that?” 

“Because I'm allergic.” Dean sinks his teeth into Cas’ neck.

The next thing Dean knows there's a flash of light and he's lying on the floor. He sits up with a wince, then winces again at the furious expression on Cas’ face. 

“What the fuck, Dean.” Cas, who is apparently a witch after all, is absolutely gorgeous in his fury. He’s holding one hand to his neck, but the other one is lined in blue fire. When he takes a step forward, the lights flicker above him. He's both scary as fuck and hot as hell. 

Dean swallows and tries to lighten the mood. “Great. I fucking knew it. I'm gonna be tasting witch for weeks.”

Cas narrows his eyes and the fire around his hand flares.

Dean throws his hands up in supplication. “Look man, I'm really sorry. You said you were okay with it. I thought we were on the same page.”

“A statement that was negated by the fact that you neglected to tell me you were a vampire.”

“Uh, seriously? Pot meet kettle.”

Cas has the grace to look away at that and crosses his arms across his chest. “I never performed magic on you without asking.”

“What about the dreams?” Dean points out. 

Cas squints at him in apparent confusion. “What dreams?” 

Dean flushes in embarrassment. Apparently his disturbingly boring sex life was to blame for those after all. He definitely needs to burn that notebook. “Nevermind. You really didn't know?”

“I did not.” Cas maintains his rigid posture but the flames around his hand die down. “I'm pretty sure I'd remember that conversation.”

“Fair enough. I should have told you.” Dean shifts around on the floor, resisting the urge to scrub the awful taste off of his tongue. “But in my defense, it’s not like I was trying to hide it. I mean, I work nights at a blood bank and hit the butcher shop three times a week. I thought you knew.” Dean narrows his eyes and points at Cas. “Wait a minute. You made a garlic joke earlier.”

“I did?” Cas frowns.

“The nachos?” 

Cas just continues to squint at him.

“Forget it. I really am sorry. I figured Charlie talked to you about it before you moved in.” 

Cas tilts his head and thinks. “She did say you had some type of ‘alternative lifestyle’ that I should talk to you about, but I just figured she meant you were gay.” 

The absurdity of the situation breaks the remaining tension and they both laugh. Cas returns to the bed, beckoning for Dean to follow him. 

Cas turns and rummages in the nightstand. After a moment he turns around holding up a slightly bent joint in victory. “Here we go.” He lights up and takes a hit before continuing. “You shouldn't have needed to tell me. I should have known.”

Dean sits down a respectable distance from Cas. “What do you mean?”

Cas takes another long hit and then passes it to Dean. “I'm just bitter. I had a bit of a, uh, falling out with the rest of my family. The coven cut me off and when they did my powers just kind of drained away. I'm practically human now.”

“Sucks.” The little display earlier makes it hard for Dean to believe that, but he has no idea what Cas is comparing himself to. He’s always kept his distance from witches. “Any chance you could get back in with them?”

“It was my choice to leave. We didn’t exactly see eye to eye on most matters.”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, I can see that. No offense Cas, but I fucking hate witches.”

“None taken. You’re not exactly the posterboy for vampires yourself, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know. Part of why I flubbed this whole thing.” He gestures between them. “I haven’t actually fed off someone in, shit, almost 2 years.”

“Hmm.” Cas pinches off the end of the joint and sets it on the nightstand. “Is that so?”

“Yeah man. My fucking teeth popped out the moment I sat on the bed. Had to think about that nasty kombucha scum to get them under control. I'm surprised you didn’t notice.”

Cas makes a noncommittal noise and inches closer. He trails his fingers down Dean’s arm. “I was a bit distracted with other parts of you that were popping out.” He presses his mouth close to Dean’s ear and whispers, “I have another secret to tell you, Dean.”

Dean trails his hands over Cas’ side. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“You’re not allergic to witches.” 

The feeling of Cas’ hot breath against his neck is so distracting that it takes Dean a moment to process what he said. “Huh? Yeah I am. All vamps are.”

Cas smirks at him. “That’s a myth. It's actually just a basic repellant spell that all witches know. Makes us taste unpleasant to vampires, ghouls, all types of things that might want to get their teeth in us.”

“That's pretty cool, but my mouth still tastes like battery acid.” He winces at how that came out but Cas doesn't seem bothered. “No offense, but I don't really see the difference.”

“The difference, Dean, is that most spells are reversible. And all it takes to reverse this one,” he snaps his fingers, “is a thought.”

Dean pulls back and stares at Cas. “Really?”

“Yes. It's not exactly something we advertise though, so I'd prefer if you kept that little tidbit to yourself.” Cas tilts his head back and strokes a finger along his neck teasingly. “Truth is, I've heard we are actually quite palatable.”

Dean keeps his teeth retracted through sheer willpower. “What exactly are you saying Cas?”

“I'm saying that if you want to pick up where we left off, I’m amenable. And if you want to bite me, well, I promise to behave.”

This time there's no gentleness or hesitation. Their clothes are quickly discarded and before Dean can even process the situation he's on his back with his legs splayed while Cas circles his rim with a slick finger. Dean presses down eagerly but the finger slides away.

“Can I eat you out Dean?”

“Fuck, yes!” Dean rolls over and gets on all fours. He feels exposed and wanton but he wants this too badly to pretend otherwise. 

Cas’s hands are warm and confident as they massage the firm flesh of Dean’s ass. His thumbs skim closer and closer to their goal, but stay just out of reach, causing Dean to writhe with want. When Cas finally parts his cheeks, Dean thinks the wait is over, but Cas just holds him like that.

Cas remains that way, holding him open and bare, until Dean starts to squirm. His breath ghosts along Dean’s feverish skin when he murmurs, “I’ve been thinking about doing this for months, Dean. You have no idea.”

Dean is about to retort that he’s pretty sure he does, but when Cas tongue presses against his hole, all conscious thoughts are gone. 

Cas sets to work like he’s trying to earn a merit badge in rimming. He alternates quick jabs with slow flat sweeps of his tongue and seems to have a knack for knowing exactly what will drive Dean wild. When he fastens his mouth around the slick rim and sucks, Dean let’s out a helpless wail and shivers. Cas still doesn’t let up. Once Dean’s hole is wet and fluttering he brings his fingers back into play, using their long length to zero in on their target. 

Dean fists his hands in the mattress and bears down on Cas’ fingers. He doesn’t realize he’s chanting the word “fuck” over and over again until he has to lick his dry lips. He bites down on the blanket beneath him and shudders as Cas slides two fingers right over his prostrate and leaves them there, rubbing incessantly. He’s moments away from coming when the fingers disappear and Cas slaps his ass.

“I want you to ride me, Dean. Can we do that?” He rubs the globes of Dean’s ass, soothing the quivering muscles.

Dean rarely turns down a bedroom request and he isn't about to start now. Instead of directly answering he flips over and quickly manhandles Cas beneath him. Cas’ eyes darken at the display of strength and Dean files that away for later.

He’s slick and loose from Cas’ preparations, but he still feels every inch as he slides down Cas’ cock. He takes his time, sinking down slowly and causing them both to groan when he finally bottoms out.

Cas is tense beneath him, head thrown back and breathing shallow as Dean begins to move. Dean watches every movement as Cas licks a wet stripe down his own hand and wraps it around Dean’s cock, stroking him as close to the rhythm of his thrusts as possible.

It seems like it’s only been a minute before Dean has to knock his hand away. He’s too close, and this isn’t how he wants to come. He slams himself down onto Cas, rolling his hips and speeding up until Cas is as close as he is. When Cas’ hands suddenly tighten and hold him in place, Dean hovers over Cas’ neck uncertainly.

Cas notices the movement and pulls Dean towards his neck growling, “Bite me, Dean.”

He sinks his teeth into Cas for the second time that night and it's like biting into a live wire. Cas tastes earthy and rich, but above all he tastes like power. It sends sparks down Dean's throat that are almost painful. If this is what Cas tastes like when he's practically human then Dean thinks a fully powered Cas might kill him. 

Dean’s climax takes him by surprise. The dual sensations of Cas’ cock still twitching inside him and the pull of blood in his mouth is too overwhelming to resist and he comes in thick spurts across both of their stomachs.

As he comes down from his orgasm, Dean takes one last drink, wondering how he ever lived without this. He lets the blood rest in his mouth for a moment, sending tingles across his tongue. If vampires get a heaven, he’s pretty sure it tastes like this. He finally swallows and pulls back, placing a gentle kiss against the bite before lapping at the wound with his tongue. 

Cas gently pushes him away with a dazed smile. “It’ll be fine by morning, don’t worry.”

Dean places one more kiss against the bite before pulling back to look. Cas is right. The holes are already closing as he watches. While he’s glad Cas heals quickly, he's a little sad that there’ll be no trace of his mark so soon. 

Cas taps the end of Dean’s nose. “I can tell what you’re thinking. Don’t be barbaric. Besides you can leave a new set tomorrow.” 

A rush of satisfaction fills Dean at that. He gingerly pulls himself off of Cas and collapses beside him. He's sticky and sated and feeling better than he has in a long time. 

Dean stares at the ceiling in silence as he catches his breath. “That was awesome.” 

“Mmm, yes.” Cas reaches towards him and swipes his fingers through the cooling mess on Dean's stomach. He pulls his fingers back to look at them and mutters, “What a waste though.” 

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?” 

Cas looks at Dean as he rubs his thumb across his glistening fingers. “Did you know that vampire semen is used in over a dozen spells?” He winks at Dean. “It’s normally rather difficult to come by.”

Dean huffs a surprised laugh. “Jesus, Cas. Someone needs to teach you better pillow talk.” He looks around for something to clean himself up with, but doesn’t see anything within reach. “Tell you what. Get me something to clean up with and you can have all the vamp jizz you want next time.” 

Cas presses a hand to Dean’s side and whispers something under his breath. A tingle runs over Dean’s skin as the splotches and spatters of come vanish.

“Dude, cool party trick.” Dean runs his hand over the suddenly dry skin and feels a light charge like static electricity. “That was awesome. Thanks Cas.” 

“Of course, Dean.” Cas yawns and rolls towards Dean, slotting an arm across his chest. “You know, despite the current animosity, there’s actually a long history of partnerships between witches and vampires. Modern covens look down on it now, but if they bothered to look at some of the older grimoires they’d see how mutually beneficial such a partnership could be. In fact–” 

Dean closes his eyes and lets the low rumble of Cas’ voice wash over him as he delves into his great aunt’s exploits. He’s almost asleep but the glow from the lamp across the room keeps bothering him. “Hey Cas, is it okay if I turn off that light?”

Cas doesn’t even pause in his story. He just glances across the room and the light turns off.

Dean’s cock twitches at the easy display of power. 

Fuck. He definitely has a witch fetish.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler: Dean is revealed to be a vampire, there is a scene near the end with blood drinking
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> This is the prompt I was (loosely) working from:
> 
> Life was normal for Character A until the new neighbor moved in upstairs. First, it’s the strange noises at all hours of the night, then it’s the smell of turpentine and smoke drifting down through the vents, then it’s the strange dreams Character A wakes up from nearly every night. But if that weren’t bad enough, no one else on the floor seems to think there’s anything odd going on at all.


End file.
